


Distressed Damsel

by Anonymous



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: But the twist it's a human, Crossdressing, Hurt/Comfort, I don't really know how things work, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Misgendering, Monster of the Week, Mostly hurt, bad magic, but little comfort, kiddnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: An old lord decides he wants Geralt's brute strength and combat skill for his own and he has the perfect plan to get it. He has much more nefarious plans for the little song bird accompanying the witcher. After all he has such pretty blue eyes.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 809
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

When Jaskier wakes up, his body feels numb his limbs tingling with the familiar ache of laying in one position too long. His mouth was dry and when he opened his eyes the room was spinning. He blinked, _ wait, a room? _ Last he remembers he was camping with Geralt, and now he was in a large overly decorated room, laying in the middle of a bed. He stared straight up into the canopy tod, which was gold and lined with red flowers. It was too flashy for his taste, which was really saying something. If Geralt was here he would agree with a distasteful glare. Speaking of Geralt, where was the witcher? 

Jaskier swallowed, but his mouth felt as it was full of cotton. It was almost like a hangover but he felt more sluggish and hazy than nauseous and gross. It was hard to breathe, and he looked down at what was restricting his chest and saw a lacy purple corset. His legs were covered in a full silk skirt, and it pillowed his body. 

_ Wait, What?? _

He was definitely not dressed like some elegant maiden last night. Jaskier tied to reach out to touch the lace, but all he accomplished was a feeble twitch of his fingers. 

_ Oh, that’s not good. Definitely not good. _

The numbness in his limbs seemed more worrying now and his already short breath picked up in his panic. His fingers twitched uselessly on his side, and his eyes moved fast as he was taking in the room. 

“Oh, you’re awake my little songbird.”

Jaskier flinched at the unexpected voice, someone was in the room with him. He moved his head to the side to look at the person. It took effort and was an ungraceful, uncoordinated movement but successful as he finally saw the man. He was an older gentleman, some time of lord or count, maybe even a king if his extravagant outfit was anything to go by. He was quite a large man, and he sat on a chair in the corner staring at him. Great, so this old man was staring at him while he dozed, just brilliant.

Jaskier tried to voice his opinion on this, but all that came out was a moan. It seemed speech was not an option as of this moment. He let out another low whine at this realization. 

The man stalked forward, “Sshhhh. You have quite a fright, forced to travel with that brute, but don’t worry princess, I, Lord Batholomew, have saved you.”

Jaskier let out a grunt, “mm not a princess” He slurred out glaring at the man. His fingers twitched again, and he found he could move his left hand a couple of inches. 

The man tsked and hand reached out to soothe down Jaskier’s curls. “Oh poor little thing, so confused. Perhaps they gave you too much tea. It’s to calm your nerves.” He gestured to the gold kettle and matching cup on the dresser. 

Jaskier internal panic spiked with the contact, and he tried to pull away but the hand’s grip turned harsh and pulled his hair. He was forced to make eye contact with the man and whimpered as his hair was tugged roughly. 

“I know you are mixed up right now. But I am your savior and you do well to treat me as such.”

Jaskier made a noise of agreement, tears in his eyes. The hand released its grip, and Jaskier blinked the tears away.

_ Okay so, crazy lord thinks I’m a damsel. Which he saved. From? Geralt probably. Which means Geralt was somewhere. Probably in danger.  _

The Lord turned around and began tugging at the ties to his doublet, pulling off the outer layer and placing it on the chair he was just sitting on. Jaskier tensed at the man’s disrobing,  _ Oh shit, Oh fuck. That could not be good.  _

“I think considering all that we went through to help you, you should be grateful.” He turned back around and his face was dark. “I wonder how will you show your gratitude.” The man approached the bed and Jaskier felt his blood run cold. The man stopped at the foot of the bed and grabbed Jaskier’s ankles and dragged him down towards him. Jaskier kicked out feebly, his limbs still not quite obeying. The man crawled onto the bed, leering down at Jaskier. He kissed his neck and trailed down to his chest, while his hand pulled up the skirt and traveled up his stocking-clad thigh. 

“Mmm. You taste so good, little princess.” He stroked the bare skin on his upper thigh, “And you’re so soft.” He breathed into Jaskier’s ear and he pulled the dress up farther. Jaskier laid immobile but when that warm sweaty palm so close to him his hands rose and he slapped the man away. The lord growled but before he could move Jaskier gathered all his strength and kicked him in his dick. 

The man pulled back and Jaskier rolled away, leaping from the bed. He swayed once his stocking-clad feet hit the floor and he almost toppled over, he made it three shaky steps before he was tackled into the stone floor. He let out an oof as he felt the breath knocked out of him.

“That wasn’t very nice.” The hot breath was in his ear again and Jaskier felt the man layered on his back, one hand grasping the string on his corset and tugging him back into place. He felt him thrust into him and his obvious enjoyment at the predicament. He pushed once more, hands scraping the stone. The man hand wrapped around his hair again and pulled it tightly back so Jaskier could barely breathe, and the pushed forwards so his head ricocheted off the concrete. Jaskier saw stairs and his world became fuzzy. He was snapped back into consciousness by the man thrusting into him raw, and he let out a shriek.  _ Oh Gods, that hurt.  _

He had been maneuvered onto his back and could see the lords face as he pushed into him. He weakly struggled again, hands pushing at the man. The man grabbed his wrist and pinned it above his head squeezing hard. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The man said but his erratic fast past thrusting and the wide grin on his face were saying otherwise. The pressure increased on his left wrist. 

Jaskier screamed again at the snap that echoed through the room. 

“Yes sing for me, little princess.”

His sobs and the pleasure-filled grunts of the man bounced off the walls. 

It felt like it went on for an eternity before the man let out a loud moan and he spilled into Jaskier. He pulled back and dragged Jaskier back to the bed setting him down. The tears had stopped falling, and he stared blankly as the man maneuvered him in a mockery of the earlier pose. Except he was no longer peacefully lying there, his face was tracked with tears, dirt, and blood. His dress was ripped in several places, and his neck was littered with bruises. Underneath the dress, his hips matched his neck and wrists. Then there was the cooling evidence mingled with his blood dripping between his thighs that marked the attack.

“You females are truly the gentler sex.” The man scoffed at Jaskier’s unmoving body. “Here have more tea.” He poured some tea from the golden kettle on the bedside table before replacing it. He held the tea to Jaskier’s lips. 

Jaskier turned at the suggestion shaking his head, “No. No, please.” The man scoffed again and grabbed his jaw with on hand forcing his mouth open and the tea down his throat. He pulled away after deeming Jaskier had drunk enough. 

The man pulled his trousers up and began to lace them, turning away from Jaskier. 

“Thank you, that was a wonderful princess. I know you ladies are sensitive about this stuff, so I am truly grateful you trusted me with it.”

He needed to get out and find Geralt. Jaskier had no idea how long the tea would take to numb his limbs but he needed to act fast. He cleared his throat and forced his body to relax, mirroring the effects of the drugs. When he spoke his voice was layered with sweetness and it was gentle.

“My...love. I was wondering if you could tell me the fate of the beast who was holding me captive?”

The man tensed, ‘Why would are you so curious little bird? Still under his spell”

Jaskier shook his head, widening his eyes “No, dearest. I was, well I was afraid. I know I have you here to protect my virtue but I can’t help but wonder.”

The man visibly preened at that, “No need to worry princess! My men have captured him and he is locked away in the dungeons below the castle and I hold the only key to his cage!” The man boasted and revealed the key hanging around his neck that Jskier hadn’t noticed.

_ Okay. Got a location. _

_ “  _ Not to mention the fact that he wouldn’t remember you enough to care. You are safe now.”

_ Wait, not remember? _

“What do you mean?”

“I have the witcher placed under a strong potion, one whose effects make the victim aggressive and more animalistic. The man is nothing more than a killing machine now, with nothing but bloodlust. He will kill indiscriminately and care for nothing else. You see, he will not come for you in his state.”

That might throw a wrench in his plans. But the lord was probably exaggerating, Geralt wouldn’t hurt him he was sure of it. He closed his eyes and hummed happily, “Thank you” He made sure to slur the words as he went limp and evened his breathing slowly mimicking the deep sleep he was in earlier. 

“That tea is quick-acting I suppose.” He felt a gentle hand in his hair and fought the urge to flinch. A kiss was placed on his lips and it took all his strength to remain still. He heard shuffling and movements from the lord. He opened his eye into a squint and saw the man turned away shrugging on his doublet. Jaskier sat up slowly and stood up, the stocking muffling the sound of his feet. He wrapped his hand around the tea kettle’s handle and took a step forward.

The man began humming and Jaskier took another step before he was close enough. He held the kettle high and with all his strength swung it down to smash against the man’s head, who crumpled at the impact.

Jaskier huffed above his holding the kettle. The man bled sluggishly from his temple and Jaskier bent down to feel his pulse. The man was still alive, so Jaskier forced his jaw open and poured some tea down his throat. He then ripped some of his dress and tied the man’s hands together behind his back for good measure. “I’ll take that asshole.” He grabbed the key from his neck. 

  
  


He winced as he looked at the kettle and knew what he had to do to get the drug out of his system quicker. He shoved his finger down his throat and gagged loudly before the tea made a reappearance. He retched for a few seconds before he stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He saw a gold dagger on the table and grabbed it before he stood up to leave the room.  _ Need to find Geralt before that godamned tea works.  _

He stumbled out of the room, one hand on the stone wall to support himself, the injured one cradled to his chest.  _ Okay, just need to get to the basement. _

\----

After stumbling around, Jaskier found a set of stairs and descended them. He stopped midway at a door that was half open, light filtering out. He listened outside the door and after hearing silence he pushed it open slowly.

Under the window was a chair with Geralt’s armor and two swords and Jaskier felt himself exhale in relief. Next to his companion’s things was his lute. He could have cried at the sight. He rushed forward and swept it into his hands, and he wasted no time swinging it over his shoulder. He then grabbed the twin swords and struggled to lift it into his arms. How did the witcher make this look so easy? His left wrist cried at the action and he held back tears as he swung it over his shoulder as well, body swaying at the weight. Next was the two’s bags, one on each shoulder. He tried to bend down to grab at the clothes, but his ribs cried out.  _ Right. The fucking corset. _

He shuffled around to the side and bent at the knees to grab at the leather armor. Once he had it in his hand he sighed again and turned to the door. He peeked out and checked both directions for any sign of life, and found it blissfully empty. He walked out and continued down the steps. He stopped at the bottom in a long corridor, lined with doors and he could hear a loud familiar growl. This had to be the basement, and that growl was distinctively witchery. 

Jaskier walked down the dark hall, pausing to look through the doors and he began to mutter. 

“Geralt better be goddamn grateful for my sacrifices. Bloody searching around this giant creepy castle for his ass. Walking about like a goddamn pack mule. I feel bad for Roach carrying this shit.”

The growling got louder, and Jaskier’s volume grew with it. “Wouldn’t even make a good song. The bard and the case of the mistaken identity. Well, it was rather heroic of me. Maybe I’ll leave the whole dress out of it. I am exploring the dark basement, carrying these heavy swords, on a rescue mission.” He hummed, before singing, “The bard knocked the man upside the head, traveled the dark…” He trailed off, reaching the door from where the growl was emitting. He leaned to the window and saw a figure in the corner. 

“Geralt?” He called out. There was no answer but the growl. From down the hall and up the stairs he suddenly heard voices. He picked up one sentence which made his blood run cold.

“Gonna check on the prisoner.” 

He struggled with the key around his neck, pushing it into the slot, wincing as he was forced to use his probably broken wrist. “You better be in here Geralt.” He muttered as the lock opened. “And you better not kill me,” he added as an afterthought. He saw a touch light on the stairs and he pushed the door open and slid inside quickly. Leaning back against the wall listening. The footsteps stopped at the door, and the torch lit up the cell as Jaskier held his breath. 

_ Don’t look at the lock. Don’t come in.  _ He prayed internally.

The seconds seemed to last hours before the man turned and Jaskier listened to him walk away. Once the sound of the footsteps disappeared Jaskier let out a sigh. His relief was brief as his leg was yanked out from under him and he was dragged to the center of the cell before weight was pinning him to the ground. He let out a pathetic yelp. He looked into a familiar face, that was twisted in a rage. He felt a hand on his throat, and he threw his hands out in defense. 

“It’s me, Geralt! Please!” He whispered cried, his voice broke at the end from the pressure on his throat. Geralt snarled, his eyes shining in the dark cell. Jaskier’s hands weakly struck at Geralt’s face with his working hand, who snatched it midair and held it between them. Jaskier could see spots and he gasped for air. The man inhaled and his grip softened, giving Jaskier’s throat a break and he inhaled greedily. He looked up to the witcher who was still holding his wrist close to his face and breathing in. His eyes were closed now and his body was more relaxed. Perhaps he was done with his whole murder Jaskier bit. 

His eyes snapped open and he leaned back but pulled Jaskier with him so the smaller man was sitting in his lap. The witcher than buried his face into Jaskier’s shoulder and Jaskier felt him inhale. Was the man smelled him? Jaskier relaxed, and his hands feel on the witcher’s broad shoulders. 

“Got that out of your system?” His question ended in a yelp as he felt a tongue lick the length of his neck. He pressed on the shoulders, slapping lightly “Hey! None of that! I am not food!!” 

The witcher finally nuzzled into his neck again, letting out a pleased grunt. Jaskier’s fingers combed into the long white hair. 

“That potion really fucked you up huh? You’re not usually so touchy.” The man practically purred at the gentle fingers in his hair and Jaskier sighed. “As lovely as this is, maybe we should leave. I’m sure you’ve noticed but this isn’t exactly the time or place for cuddling.”

Geralt just pressed his nose further into Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier could feel Geralt’s pressing arousal on his thigh and he tensed. He struggled in his arms but the witcher pushed forward and began to lean Jaskier back on the ground.

_ Not again. Please.  _

Jaskier let out a cry as his sore ribs screamed under the pressure from the awkward position. Geralt stopped at the movement and his hands ran down Jaskier’s side searching for the injury. His hands landed on the corset and then he reached behind for the ribbons and before Jaskier could blink he tore them. The offending garment was tossed in the corner of the cell and Jaskier slumped in relief. “Oh fuck me.” He murmured right hand rubbing his ribs, “ Never wearing one of those again.”

Geralt did not stop at removing his corset, He ran his hands up and down the body, making a questioning noise. Jaskier was relived at the turn this had taken, as Geralt was no longer grinding on him but was concerned over his pain. Jaskier stopped his hand with his right one, “I’m okay. Well, not totally okay. But getting out of here is more important.” Geralt just blinked up at him and he grew more frustrated. He needed Geralt functioning to get out of this castle. Him and the dagger he stuck into his skirt would not cut it. 

He riffled through the bag searching for a solution, and e pulled out a gold vial he had seen Geralt drink to cure poisons before. Surely that was the same principle as a nasty potion. He popped the vial open and motioned for Geralt to drink it. The witcher raised his brow but drank anyways looking to appease the bard. He slapped Geralt lightly on the face, “You in there big guy?”

Geralt shook his head at the light pat, and his eyes focused. “Jaskier?” His voice was deep and Jaskier let out a relieved sigh. “Oh thank Melite.”

“What’s going on?” He sounded confused, well rightfully so. He had an armful of Jaskier, who was bloodied, bruised and wearing a shredded dress in a dark cell. He let out a hysterical laugh and slumped forward, his exhaustion and that tea catching up to him. He was now leaning on Geralt’s shoulder. 

“It’s a long story.” 

Jaskier was pulled forward to be scrutinized by those yellow eyes, cataloging his bruises. His hand brushed over the dried blood on his forehead “You’re hurt...Did I?”

Jaskier laughed again, “You didn’t hurt me. This perverted old lord...Well, I’ll tell you the story if you get us out of this bloody castle.”

Geralt sniffed the air and Jaskier looked away, knowing he smelt what had happened in that room upstairs. If it wasn’t completely obvious from the ragged dress slipping down one shoulder revealing the bruises on his neck. He was sure they were accompanied by the handprint from the witcher but he would keep that to himself. The witcher’s arms tightened around the bard and the silence was drawn out. “Okay. My swords?” 

Jaskier shrugged towards the door, where the armor, swords, bags, and his lute laid forgotten. Geralt pulled away from Jaskier and set him on the floor gently. He stood and grabbed his armor pulling it on. He pulled on the swords next and then he grabbed the lute gently and placed it gently on his back. He turned to Jaskier who was still in a crumpled heap on the floor. “Can you stand?”

Jaskier shrugged from the floor, “Probably?” Geralt offered him a hand and he grasped it gratefully pulling himself up. Geralt released his hand and he pitched forward immediately without the support. He righted himself and tried to step towards the door when his knees gave out and he fell to the floor again. Or he would have without Geralt’s hand around his midsection. 

“Okay, so it was no then.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. He felt the numbness in his legs and his arms, which was almost relief from the aches from his injuries. Geralt set him back on the floor and he didn’t even have the strength to support his weight with his arms and was slumped over on his side. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Geralt’s voice sounded concerned and Jaskier laughed again. There goes his rescue attempt. 

“Made me drink this tea, to “calm my nerves”. He mocked the man’s voice. “Makes it so I can’t move. I don’t think it lasts long though, it was wearing off before I woke up. Though I have no idea how long I was asleep in the first place. I made myself throw up though” His voice slightly slurred towards the end. He let out a whine as he immobility set in. 

Geralt hmmed and reached down to move Jaskier into a sitting position. He slid behind him and let Jaskier lean back on his chest. He sniffed Jaskier again, nose wrinkling. “Should only last a bit longer. I can only smell traces of the drug on you.” 

Jaskier let out a sigh before mumbling, “You can smell that?”

He felt Geralt shrug, “I can smell the blood and sweat on you.” He paused, “I can smell what that man did to you. I can smell what I did to you.” 

Jaskier shook his head slightly, rolling it back to look at Geralt’s face. Geralt was staring solemnly at the wall across from them. “Hey no. Look at me.” 

The witcher’s gaze left the wall and fell on Jaskier’s face with a bitter expression. “I hurt you.”

Jaskier laughed lightly, “You didn’t hurt me. Here’s what happened, I came in and you scared the daylight out of me by tackling me. “ Geralt tensed his jaw clenching and Jaskier hurried to finish the story. “Than you smelled me and hugged me and we cuddled for a bit. You ripped that fucking corset off, which thank you by the way I could literally feel it trying to squeeze me to death. Then I made you drink that potion and you woke up. End of story.” 

Geralt’s brows raised, but Jaskier continued. “He told me that you would kill me, rip me apart but you didn’t. You did lick me though, that was pretty gross.” 

The witcher’s grip tightened before he growled out, “You thought I would kill you and you still came for me?” He asked incredulously.

Jaskier hummed and shrugged as much as he could, “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He felt a huff on the back of his neck and shook his head. “I could have. Next time leave me.”

“Than who would help me escape huh? Without you, I’d be a bard shaped puddle in the middle of the castle and it would all be for naught.”

“So you risked your life on the off chance I’d break you out?”

Jaskier pshed loudly, “I knew you would get me out. Besides like I’m gonna leave my favorite witcher here to rot.”

Finally, Geralt chucked, “I’m the only witcher you know.”

“Still my favorite.” 

“Hmm.”

“Hey while I’m enjoying the lovely effects of this numbing drug would you mind wrapping my wrist. Pretty sure it’s busted.” He gestured to his limp left arm hanging to the side.

He felt his limb be pulled in front of him and he caught sight of the purpled and swollen skin. “Gross.”

Geralt hmmed in agreement. He ripped at Jaskier’s skirt and mumbled an apology. He then gently wrapped the wrist with the fabric, “You’re gonna need a healer.” It was Jaskier’s term to hmm. Geralt held the wrist, “For this,” and his other hand brushed Jaskier’s hairline. “And this.”

Jaskier winced at the pressure on his head wound, “Ow. Oh, wait! I felt that!” He said happily. “Yes! Take that shitty tea!” 

Geralt snorted in his ear and moved so both of Jaskier’s hands were in each of his and he began to massage them. “This will help.” Jaskier sighed as he felt the feeling return to his fingers and he closed his eyes leaning on Geralt. Geralt continued his ministrations and once his arms were deemed done, the witcher moved to his feet. Jaskier let out a quiet moan at the ministrations. He moved his fingers and his toes. “Okay, I think I’m good. You can stop now. “ Geralt’s hands remained on his thighs for a few more seconds before he pulled back. 

“Think you can walk now?” 

“If I can’t I’ll crawl out. Better than staying here.” Geralt hmmed again and stood, lifting Jaskier to his feet as well. Jaskier took a few stumbling steps before turning back, “That’s good enough. Let’s go.” He grabbed the dagger he had stolen and pushed the door open, gesturing Geralt to exit first.

Geralt smiled viciously and pulled out his steel sword. “How many?”

Jaskier shrugged, “I only saw one soldier on my way down. The lord should still be incapacitated upstairs.” Geralt turned and looked at him and he shrugged muttering. “See if he liked that fucking tea.” Geralt looked almost proud of him before taking a step out the door gesturing Jaskier to follow him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

(Flashback!)

Jaskier hummed quietly staring at Geralt across the fire. They had set up camp together in the forest for the night, after a rather uneventful day. He pulled his doublet closer in response to the chill in the air, he was ready to call it a night and climb under the covers. Geralt was cleaning his swords by firelight and Jaskier enjoyed these days. No wounds, no monsters, just a quiet night.

Geralt suddenly sat up straight and tensed, and Jaskier looked to where the witcher’s head had turned. He couldn’t see anything. “Geralt?”

Geralt stood up holding his sword, shushing the bard. Jaskier quieted and went for his dagger. There was a loud whistling noise from their right and Geralt’s head whipped in that direction. A dart flew from the left and landed in Geralt’s neck; he pulled it out before swearing. “Jaskier run!” He growled out. Jaskier scrambled towards him ignoring the order. Geralt stumbled forward before collapsing. Jaskier caught him before he hit the ground. He felt a pinch at his neck and managed to lift his hand to the stinging before he too collapsed. His vision went blurry and he couldn’t move but he heard the men approach. 

“We came for a witcher, men and we won!” A cheer came from the men, Jaskier felt himself be turned over, “But who is this...lovely thing?” 

Jaskier blinked a few times, trying to regain consciousness. “Aw, you poor thing. Just sleep, darling.” Jaskier’s eyes slipped shut despite his efforts. 

A large palm caressed his cheek, “Such a pretty thing.” 

  
  
  
  
  


\-----

Jaskier followed behind Geralt sluggishly, and they climbed the stairs together. Geralt paused at the door and held a hand out to Jaskier to stop his movements. 

“They know.” Jaskier raised his eyebrows before mouthing, “Know what?” at the witcher. Geralt rolled his eyes before gesturing at the bard.  _ Ohhhh. Them escaping. That’s not Great.  _

He whispered that to Geralt who shrugged before pulling out his sword and pushing open the door. 

He let out a relaxed sigh when the hallway was empty, but the witcher remained tense gripping his sword tightly. Jaskier relief disappeared just as quickly as appeared. A tense witcher meant they weren’t home free yet. They continued down the hallway and turned to the left, into another long hallway.

This hallway was also empty but even Jaskier could hear the rapid footsteps approaching. Jaskier swallowed before making eye contact with Geralt and nodding, he flexed his grip on the small dagger. Geralt growled out, “Stay behind me.” 

Then the doors burst open and soldiers with large swords started filing through, two at a time. The frontmen yelled and charged at the duo, Geralt snarled and swung at them. He made quick work of the man on the right, removing his head from his shoulders in one swift blow. Two more soldiers engaged in the battle before Geralt was fished with the second one. Jaskier took a couple of steps back, knowing Geralt needed space to fight. 

He looked up and saw a man at the doorway to the hall loading a crossbow, the tip of the arrow gleaming in black and Jaskier knew it was poison. He glanced worriedly to Geralt who was too engrossed in holding off the remaining two men to notice. 

Jaskier looked to the dagger he held, he was good at tossing small daggers and darts in tavern games, but this. There was more at stake and Jaskier’s hands were still shaking. 

The man raised the bow and Jaskier whispered a short prayer before throwing the knife. His aim was true and landed directly between the eyes of the man. But not before the bolt was released, only knicking Geralt in the shoulder instead of landing directly in the meat of it. Geralt wouldn’t be bothered by a wound that small, but the poison. The last man he was fighting dropped, and four more ran in stepping over the archer’s body. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier cried out, arm reaching out futilely. Geralt dropped his sword with a clang and stumbled forward. The soldiers ran forward but stopped abruptly at the loud snarl the witcher let out. He lunged at them snapping with his teeth, killing the first by tearing out his throat. Blood sprayed on the wall and Jaskier recoiled, He grabbed the second man by the neck, smashing his face into the wall. Jaskier took a step back, Geralt was feral again. He took another step back, if he was in here he would only distract the other man, and he didn’t have his swords so Jaskier was worried he would be vulnerable. Jaskier reached the door and opened it. He took a few steps backwards, watching Geralt disappear from his view. He could still hear the cries of men as Geralt ripped them apart. 

Jaskier felt a hand at his waist and he let out a small gasp of surprise before a hand was placed over his face and he was pushed bodily into the wall. The lord from before, face bloody and doublet undone was staring into his eyes. Jaskier could have cried, of course, the man was here. The man pressed him into the wall, his eyes crazed. 

“Thought you could get away from me pretty bird?” Jaskier slapped the man uselessly, struggling against the wall, the lord pressed impossibly closer, a thigh sliding in between his legs and his hand moving up to Jaskier’s throat. His breath was hot in his ear.

“That tea was designed to work on a small thing like you princess, it wore off within minutes on me. I shouldn’t really call you that, you are no princess.” His grip tightened and Jaskier let out a muffled cry. “You’re a whore. Running to that monster despite the love and tenderness I showed you?” He ground into Jaskier, who felt hot tears run down his face again as he doubled his effort to flee. 

“My men will take care of that monster, then I’ll lock you up in the dungeon. I’ll let them have a turn with you little whore until you learn your lesson. I’ll put a collar on you and drag you down the barracks to pleasure them one at a time. Make you their cumslut. You’d look so pretty tied up, and covered in release. Maybe then you’ll beg for the mercy of my cock and bed. Teach you to behave.”

Jaskier spits in his face in response. The grip on his neck tightened and Jaskier’s vision blacked out around the edges. The lord snarled, “Or maybe I’ll kill you here. Little bird never to sing again.” 

The hand on his mouth moved to join the one on his neck in it’s crushing grip. Jaskier couldn’t do anything but let out a whimper smacking at the hands, his eyes slid shut. There was a loud growl and Jaskier eyes snapped open. _ Geralt. _

Jaskier’s face was suddenly warm and wet and the lord collapsed to the side holding his bleeding neck.  _ Blood. That was blood. _

The bard gasped, inhaling air greedily. Geralt tackled the bleeding lord who screamed in horror. Jaskier watched with wide eyes, as the witcher pressed his hand into the chest cavity of the lord, which collapsed easily under his strength. The lord screamed again and his body failed before he went still. Geralt pulled his arm back, which was coated in blood, in his hand he held something.  _ Oh sweet Melite, was that his heart?  _

Jaskier scrambled up against the wall as Geralt turned to him stalking towards the bard. He lifted the heart and took a bite out of it. Jaskier gagged and turned away, but Geralt stepped closer and grabbed the smaller man’s jaw forcing him to face the bloody man. Jaskier met his eye and gulped tensing. Geralt leaned forward and Jaskier braced for the pain, but he felt the other man’s chapped lips on his own. Jaskier’s mouth opened in surprise and the witcher took this opportunity to force the heart he had eaten into Jaskier’s mouth. 

Jaskier's eyes snapped open and he tried to pull away, but the grip on his jaw was tight. Geralt growled and Jaskier forced himself to swallow the blood and gore that was forced into him. Once he swallows his lips and jaw are released and he sees Geralt smile ferociously at him. He smacked at Geralt lightly trying not to vomit, “Oh fuck you, man. That was nasty as fuck.” His voice was hoarse from the lord’s actions.

Geralt hummed and sniffled into Jaskier’s neck inhaling deeply before purring. Jaskier let out a surprised scream as Geralt grabbed him by the back of his thigh and lifted him up. Jaskier hands scrambled on his broad shoulders. 

Geralt growled lightly at the touch and pressed further into the bard, “Mine.”

Jaskier froze in shock,”Geralt?”

The witcher pulled back and met Jaskier’s eyes. Jaskier could see that his pupils were blown so he was still under the effects of that potion, “Mine.” He repeated. 

Jaskier nodded dumbly, “Oh yes, I’m yours darling.” He ran his fingers through Geralt’s hair softly ignoring the blood and gore that lingered in it. He smiled softly, “Of course I’m yours, love.”

Geralt smiled again, his fangs glinting dangerously. Jaskier swore they had grown sharper. The smile was the only warning Jaskier got before Geralt was leaning forward and licking the blood of his face. Jaskier squealed, embarrassed at the action but Geralt continued despite his protest. Jaskier felt a variety of conflicting emotions, but disgust and lust were both at the top. Geralt licked down his neck and Jaskier fought with himself not to moan. Geralt wasn’t in his right mind right now. He wasn’t in his right mind either now that he thought of it. 

He patted the top of Geralt’s head softly before he reached into the pack swung over his shoulder. He riffled through the bag searching for more of the cure. Geralt continued to lick at him, shifting Jaskier so one warm hand held him under his thighs and the other one was free to caress at his still sore sides. The touch didn’t make him flinch, it was gentle and he let out a small moan, hands freezing in their mission. He shook his head to clear his thoughts before he continued his search. His hands came up empty, it seemed like Geralt had only one bottle. 

Jaskier let out a defeated sigh and leaned into Geralt embracing the warmth for a second, then pulled his hand back before he felt a mysterious object in the bag. He pulls it out and looks at it curiously, it was a black glass bottle and he squinted at it before it connected. “Yennefer, you cunning, pliable, raven-haired sunfish.” he shook the bottle triumphantly, before smacking at Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Let me down, you beast.” Geralt frowned but pulled back and gently placed Jaskier on the floor. The bard shook his ruined clothes before turning and gabbing an accusing finger into the witcher’s armored chest. “We are going to have a talk about this licking business as soon as Yen get you sorted.” Geralt brows drew together and he reached out to hold Jaskier again but his hands were slapped away. “Stop that! We have to leave.” 

Jaskier turned and entered the hallway he had been a minute previously before his blood froze in his veins. The hall was coated in blood and gore. The roof dripped with it. Jaskier's mouth hung open as he stared. He had never bought that whole butcher rumor but looking at the massacre before him the words reappeared in his mind. Geralt made a questioning noise behind him, nosing on his neck. Jaskier turned to the side and threw up. He grimaced at the pink bile, no doubt the coloring from the heart he had swallowed. He retched again at the thought, he felt a warm hand on his back rubbing it. He leaned back to see Geralt’s worried eyes. 

“I'm fine. I’m good. I-” He trailed off as he stared at the hallway again. His vision was suddenly covered by a warm hand and he felt himself get lifted into the arms of his witcher. He held onto the man like a small child and didn't protest when his face was pressed into the black leather of his shoulder. 

He shuddered in Geralt’s arms, a very thin thread away from breaking down. He couldn't not with Geralt like this. A few tears escaped before Geralt let out a low whine and he sniffled holding himself together. There was time for tears when he got to Yennefer and fixed his witcher. He held on and tried not to feel all his aches from the rough treatment he had been through today. His left wrist screamed, his hips ached, his throat stung at every inhale, and he was so very, very tired. He looked up when he felt the wind hit his cheek and he couldn’t hold back a manic laugh at the white landscape.  _ Of course, it was snowing. _

Geralt held him tighter when Jaskier tried to climb out of his arms and walk. He realized he was only wearing thin white stockings to protect his feet and his dress would do nothing against the cold. He shivered at the thought of what it would feel like without his witcher’s heat. He pointed to the tree line just outside the small castle. Geralt followed his direction and soon they were in the forest. 

Geralt collapses into a pine tree with Jaskier sitting on his lap. Jaskier squirms until his back was pressing into Geralt’s chest. He stares at the small black bottle.  _ Do I Drink It?  _ While he contemplates he feels the witcher’s warm hands run up and down his sides, nose right back in Jaskier’s neck. 

_ If I drink it...It might kill me. So throw it? But if I throw it and I have to drink it we’ll be fucked. If I die Geralt will be fucked though. _ As he peered at the bottle, he felt large palms reach rub his calves and travel up his inner thighs, pulling up the ruined skirt. He smacked at the hands, pulling them out of the fabric. Geralt let out a sad whine and nipped at his neck playfully. Jaskier let out a shaky exhale, remembering him tearing out that soldier's throat with the same teeth “We are  **so** talking about you trying to feel me up, mister pervert.” He whispered before tossing the bottle at the tree across the clearing. 

Geralt follows the bottle's trajectory with his eyes but doesn’t react to it smashing into the tree. He reaches for Jaskier again. In an instant Yen appears. The clearing is silent for a second as Geralt eyes her warningly. She looks at them for a second, surprised. Jaskier realized they must look positively insane for it to give Yen pause. Jaskier's white blouse was splattered with blood and blood lingered on his face still smeared into the skin. His head wound had dried, but fresh bruises littered his neck and exposed shoulder. And Geralt, well he was covered in blood and his hand was currently traveling under the bard's skirt again, which he slapped on instinct. 

Yennefer composed her shock before smirking down at the pair “Taking the damsel part a little serious, aren’t we little bird?” Her voice was playful but Jaskier flinched at the pet name and suddenly Geralt was up and growling at the witch Jaskier grabbed at the witcher. 

“No! Bad Geralt! That’s Yen! She’s a friend!” Geralt stopped at Jaskier’s movement but he still barred his teeth at Yen. 

‘That’s new.” She said, taking a step back. 

‘He’s been poisoned, something that makes him feral and he took his last cure. He just needs to smell you, he won’t attack once he recognizes it’s you.”

Yennefer looked at Jaskier, gaze cold now, glancing at the bruises and the way he was holding himself. He swallowed nervously as he knew she understood what had happened to him. She spoke slowly, her voice with an edge of anger, “Did he-”

Jaskier cut her off shaking his head, still holding onto Geralt, “No, no. It was that asshole of a lord that poisoned him.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed, “Is he dead?”

Jaskier nodded and the witch nodded in understanding. She reached her hand out for Geralt to smell and the witcher leaned forward sniffing at her. Jaskier smiled, he really hoped that he would lick Yennefer as well, her face would make his day. Instead, he growled at her and she pulled her arm back. 

“Seems as if you were wrong, bard.”

Jaskier shook his head, “I-I don’t. It worked for me?” Geralt snapped his teeth at the sorceress whose hand lit up with magic as in a warning. Jaskier lunged in between them hands up placidly. He focused on Geralt, “Hey. It’s okay. She’s an ally.”

He touched Geralt’s face gently and the witcher leaned into the touch closing his eyes. The growling stopped and when he pulled back it didn’t continue. He pulled Geralt’s palm forward so Yennefer could sense what kind of potion had control over the man. The witcher let him and didn’t react to her touch. His yellow gaze didn’t leave Jaskier’s blue one. He smiled at Yen, proud of his accomplishment and she rolled her eyes. With a wave of her hand, a portal appeared, 

“I can fix him, but all my ingredients are at home. Not to mention, if I leave you out here you’ll die in an hour from exposure. Let’s go, bard.”

“How do-” He was cut off as the sorceress yanked Jaskier by the wrist and pulled him into the portal he let out an oof as he hit the hard ground of her room. He heaved once and Geralt clambered through behind him, picking him up and pulling him away from Yen. He growled warningly at Yen who laughed.

“Cute,” she said sarcastically, before rifling around on her desk. She grabs a few things and then turns around, “Hold your breath Jaskier.” 

He inhales quickly and closes his eyes. Yennefer blows out and a fine purple mist enters the air. Geralt sneezes. His grip grows tighter on the bard who lets out and breathes and stares at him.

“Jaskier?Yen? What’s-”

“Oh thank Meletite your back!” Jaskier exclaims smiling brightly. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to pass out now.”

Geralt’s brows drew tight in confusion, “How did we get here?”

Yen waved her hand dismissively, “You were poisoned, I assume you went ballistic” She gestured to his covered in blood state then continued, “ your bard summoned me, and lucky for you I showed up. Now set the poor man down on the bed before he succumbs to his wounds.” ]

Her voice is light, but Geralt quickly and gently sets Jaksier down. Jaskier sighed when he was vertical, but shivered without the witcher's warmth. Yennefer slid her hand over him, frowning. 

“Hold still.”

Jaskier shook his head and sat up, “Just heal my head, and wrist, please. No need to waste your energy on some bruises. Oh, my neck too if you can. I would prefer to be able to sing.” 

Yennefer nodded, “I’ll make a poultice for the bruises anyways.” She waved her hand over his wrist and then his head. Geralt stood at her side, worried. She pulled back after a few minutes and Jaskier sighed as the pain lifted. It was much more bearable ache now.

  
  


“Now both of you, go take a bath. I won’t have you ruining my furniture.” 

  
  


Jaskier sputtered, protesting not taking his own bath before he realized he might just collapse into goo in the hot water and drowned. He smiled at Geralt, who was avoiding eye contact and frowning.

Yennefer smacked him on the shoulder, “Help him, you dolt. It’s the least you can do after he saved your ass.”

Jaskier smiled at that interjecting, “Twice! Saved your ass twice!” Geralt muttered under his breath before helping the bard out of the bed. He wrapped his arm around the man and followed Yennefer’s pointed finger, 

She went to her desk and grabbed the jar. She tossed it at Geralt. “I trust you to take care of that.” Geralt grunted and Jaksier smiled shouting over his shoulder, “Yen, you are so brilliant and kind and stupid hot. I thank you for the bottom of my heart”

She laughs loudly, “And leave that dress outside, I’ll burn it for you. I’ll leave some suitable clothes for you instead.”She paused before adding gleefully, “You could always borrow mine if you rather!” 

Jaskier laughed at that, yelling, “I take it back you miserable spinster.” Geralt rolled his eyes pushing the bard into the bathing room where a big warm tub sat.

“Shut up, Jaskier,” He said fondly. He began to strip the younger bard slowly wary of all his injuries. Jaskier winced as the fabric peeled from his ribs. 

“I think I liked you more when you were groping me.” 

Geralt froze, “I want?”

Jaskier smiles cheekily, “That’s right. You were quite touchy, I can’t really blame you. I mean I am quite a catch.”

Geralt blushed and turned away. There was silence before the witcher broke it. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier laughed loudly pointing to Geralt’s red face “You’re blushing!!!” 

The bard laughed happily, before falling silent. He touched Geralt’s hand that was holding him upright. “It’s alright, really.” His voice was soft and Geralt stared into the blue eyes searching for a lie. There was none so he nodded and went to take Jaksier’s skirt off. The other man’s palm touched him, halting his movement. 

“I’d rather I take care of this part. Would you mind?” Geralt nodded and looked to the ceiling. Jaskier was never shy, but he understood why the man wanted privacy. Jaskier tugged down his skirt wincing at the mess between his thighs and then he tugged down the stockings as well. They were no longer white, stained with blood at his feet and dirt everywhere else. He bundled up the clothes and tossed them at the door. He tugged on Geralt’s hand who released so he could step into the water. 

Geralt began to undress as well and once his armor was unlaced he joined his bard in the steaming water. Jaskier’s eyes were closed and he leaned back, but when Geralt stepped in he opened them smiling happily. Geralt dunked his head and the blood coating him disappeared. Jaksie hummed at that, God did he love Yen’s enchanted bathwater. He wouldn't have let Geralt in at all with the state of his hair and face. Geralt stared at him before he opened his mouth then closed it, struggling for the words. 

Jaskier let out a sigh, “You didn’t hurt me Geralt. In fact, you saved me.”

He inhaled deeply before asking, “What do you remember?”

Geralt frowned thinking, “The arrow. You said my name, then nothing” 

Jaskier nodded, “Okay. So you were poisoned by the arrow. You dropped your sword and then started killing them with your hands.” He exhaled heavily thinking of the gore in the hall. “I thought I would be a distraction, and you didn’t have your sword so I was-I stepped into the other hallway and that fucking lord found me. He held me against the wall, said some truly vile things and then he” Jaksier gestured to his throat and Geralt tensed. “Then before he could finish the job, you killed him.” Jaskier let out a laugh, “Geralt, you fucking ripped his heart with your bare hands. And then you-” He cut himself off his laughter turning into a sob. He wrapped his arms around himself sobbing loudly. Geralt looked stricken, and he cried harder. He had meant to stay composed until he was alone. He dropped his head and sobbed brittly. 

Geralt’s warm hands suddenly enveloped him and he let out a small sob before grabbing onto the man tightly. Geralt petted his hair and whispered kind words to him. 

“Breathe Jaskier, breathe. It’s alright!” 

Jaskier inhaled the musky scent that was Geralt combined with the calming chamomile form the bath and he sighed. His tears stopped and he breathed in deep. “Okay, okay. I’m good. I’m good.” He pulled back and scrubbed his face. 

“What did I do?”

Jaskier swallowed, detangling himself so he could lean against the side of the tub “You um. You kissed me.” At Geralt’s shocked face, “But it wasn’t really a kiss! You um-it was pretty nasty. You bit the heart and like... fed it to me?” There was a beat of silence. “It’s okay though because even if it was a kiss, I know you weren’t in your right mind and I know you wouldn’t want to kiss me anyways- it's fine!” Geralt stared at him before he leaned forward caging Jaskier in against the tub. 

“I wouldn’t want to kiss you?” He asked incredulously. Jaskier nodded meekly. “Yeah.”

“Jaskier, a Lord raped you today.” Jaskier flinched and looked away. Geralt’s face softened. “I am not mad at you lark.” The nickname made Jaskier shiver but in a good way. “I’m mad at myself for forcing myself on you when you were not unwilling. I’m no better than that disgusting lord.”

Jaskier shook his head desperately, “I wasn’t unwilling! I am-the the opposite of unwilling...When It's-” He paused swallowing. “When it’s you.” He said firmly looking at Geralt through wet lashes. 

Geralt took another step and grabbed Jaskier’s face, and slowly moved forward. He was mere inches from his face and staring into his eyes. “I want to kiss you. Me. Without the potion.” He whispered eyes flicking to his lips. Jaskier blinked dumbly before he processed the words. 

“Oh.”

Geralt sighed smiling gently, “Oh.” He repeated. Jaskier surged forward to press his lips to his. Geralt’s hands slid down to grab Jaskier’s waist and pull him close. Jaskier’s hands tangled in the witcher’s long hair. The kiss lasted only a minute before Geralt pulled away, kissing Jaskier’s face softly several times. Jaskier leaned into the touch, basking in the act’s softness before he pulled back as well smiling. 

Geralt caressed his face tenderly, “Mine.” 

Jaskier smiled even harder nuzzling his large calloused palm, “Oh Geralt, darling I have always been yours.” 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Yikes, I wrote this based on a dream I had. Posting anonymously cause it's a little more hardcore than my regular stuff. Might post another chapter who knows, that one would be more of comfort lol.


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